Cut
by luckly the dorkfish
Summary: "'This is it.' He thinks to himself. He picks up the knife and looks at his reflection in its glistening surface. He looks down at himself with self loathing and begins to think back to all the times they had had together. He bitterly laughs when he realizes that he was the one to ruin it all. His grip tightens further on the knife and his eyes harden and his body runs cold."
1. It begins

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Eventual Johnlock slash (Rating could go up),_ Unbeta'd, and I'm not British_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock._**

**_More notes at the end of Chapter._**

* * *

><p><em>'This is it.'<em> He thinks to himself. He picks up the knife and looks at his reflection in its glistening surface. He looks down at himself with self loathing and begins to think back to all the times they had had together. He bitterly laughs when he realizes that he was the one to ruin it all. His grip tightens further on the knife and his eyes harden and his body runs cold. _'This is it._'

When Sherlock was 15 he began cutting. He didn't intentionally do it the first time. The first time was in fact an accident. He was working on an experiment, on a cloudy Saturday morning, with a small kitchen knife that he was using to scrape the slime off of stones in the pond that was just outside of the Holmes' manor. He was just finishing with the last sample when the knife slips and knicks his wrist. He drops the stone and knife and races inside in order to stop the minor bleeding. Once he is clean, and back in his room looking at the samples he has collected, he realizes he can't concentrate on anything other than the adrenaline surging through his veins based upon one little cut. He pushes the thought away for future examination and goes back to work. Little did he know that this was not the last time he would feel the knife piercing his skin.

When Sherlock turned 16 he knew something was wrong with him. The other children would taunt him endlessly. "_Sherlock is a freak, Sherlock is weird, or Sherlock is a _**machine**" Each day he could feel the taunts seeping deeper and deeper into his skin. Sure, he could pretend that everything was alright at school, but when he got home...that was a different matter.

When he got home, he would go into his bathroom and stare at his reflection. 'Why am I treated this way? Why do I deserve this?' He started hating himself, and one day, when _they_ were being particularly cruel, he came home crying. Sherlock took up his place in front of his bathroom mirror and looked on in disgust. He looked at his red rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks, wild, untenable hair and **hated**. He picked up a hairbrush and threw it at the mirror. The glass shattered and the broken pieces landed on the counter and the floor. With tears running down his face, he picked up a shard, looked at it briefly, before putting it against his skin and made a small cut along the inside of his wrist. He Didn't regret it. In fact, he thought that it had felt _good_. He made another small line and then another, until he had three small cuts running across his wrist. He had never felt so alive.

Sherlock never had friends outside of his blades. Each insult hurled his way caused him to become reacquainted with his poisonous friends. He hates himself and now he has decided to end it. At age 19 Sherlock takes out his razor blade and cuts as deep as he can. He can feel the blood oozing out of the deep incision and he laughs. He finally feels relief. He finally believes that it will all be over, but right before he passes out he hears his name being called. Sherlock couldn't really care at this point and closes his eyes with a deep satisfied smile. _'This is it'_ and Sherlock loses consciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: I have no idea if this will even be read. I hope to get positive feedback, but even if I don't, I hope to get feedback. Let me know what you think so far. I want to get better at writing and any tips will be appreciated. Also, I wrote this for some friends of mine who are struggling with Self-harm so, this is dedicated to them.<strong>


	2. Interfering Mycroft

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Eventual Johnlock slash (Rating could go up),**_** Unbeta'd, and I'm not British**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**_

_**More notes at the end of Chapter.**_

* * *

><p>At that moment Mycroft opens the door to see his little brother slumped against the tub with blood seeping into his shirt and pooling on the white tiled flooring. He immediately dials the emergency contact number and tries to stop the blood flow until an ambulance arrives. Three things unnerved Mycroft the most. One: Why had Sherlock been feeling this way, Two: Sherlock's satisfied smile (as if he were happy his life would be over) and, Three: Why hadn't <em>he<em> known?

Mycroft put Sherlock through the proper programs, they kept him on suicide watch for about three months (72 hours spent at the hospital, with _annoying_ staff members and the rest spent with a _git_ controlling the rest), and transferred him into a new school. There he used his massive intellect to annoy the teachers proving himself right (on many multiple occasions) and uncovering the lies he saw around school. Things were going good until he met Victor Trevor. Victor Trevor was the most popular boy at the university. Victor could talk to anyone, and he was extremely handsome. When he looked Sherlock's way, Sherlock felt his insides flutter. Sherlock found himself aiming to please him. He would go out of his way to make Victor Smile. They eventually got together. Victor made Sherlock believe that he was loved. Unfortunately, Victor was using Sherlock.

Sherlock began noticing that Victor only came around when he had a paper due. Victor would ask for Sherlock's "help" and after the assignment was completed, Victor would leave his doting boyfriend with a vague excuse and would quickly exit the small the last day of classes rolled around, Sherlock brought this to Victor's attention, he got very defensive and an argument broke out. "I only ever needed you, because I wanted my work done for me. I saw how intelligent you were and I leapt at the chance. I never loved you! I don't even think you're attractive! Just look at you!" At that Sherlock visibly flinches and his eyes turn downcast. "You are far too thin, your hair is a mess, and you can't even keep a friend! You are pathetic! You wanted attention so badly, that you would have taken it from anyone! What a waste of space!" Victor walks away uncaring that he had left behind a shattered heart. Sherlock goes back to his room and takes out his old blade set.

He had _promised _himself that he wouldn't resort to this again, yet here he is, putting pressure on the thin long lines across his wrist. He briefly wonders how he will hide this from Mycroft, because now that Mycroft knows of his past afflictions, he will be on high alert to changes in Sherlock's behavior. He bandages his wrist, packs away the rest of his clothes (along with his blades at the bottom of his bag), and lays down for a brief nap before he has to get up and greet the driver who will take him back to the Holmes' Manor.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: I'd like to draw attention to chapter one for a moment. At the beginning of this fic, Sherlock isn't the young Sherlock at age 16-19. He is a lot older and has met John. Just wanted to point that out. That will be important later on. I want to say THANK YOU! To all the people who Favorited and started fallowing this story! You have made this ameture writer's day :). I hope to upload a chapter a day. Some days I will forget and then I will upload two. I have a lot of the stories written in advance. Please comment! I need to know what you guys are thinking! <strong>


	3. John Watson

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Johnlock slash (Rating could go up), Unbeta'd, and I'm not British **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

**More notes at the end of Chapter.**

* * *

><p>Of course nothing can be hidden from Mycroft Holmes. He noticed instantly that something was amiss and whilst Sherlock was distracted, he had a member from the staff to go through Sherlock's things. They found the blades and brought them to Mycroft. When Mycroft had discovered what Sherlock had done, the resulting row was legendary. Mycroft threatened to have him servalenced for every hour on end, he berated Sherlock most of the time, and finally asked him, "What in the hell are you thinking?!" For the first time during the argument, Sherlock looks up at him. "I was thinking that I hate my life, I hate myself, and no one else likes me either. I'm tired of living this way." Mycroft looks at Sherlock with stunned silence and Sherlock walks away.<p>

Mycroft gets Sherlock involved with the DI Lestrade and gets Sherlock into solving cases. This seems to be the best medicine for Sherlock and he now is generally happy. He does suffer from 'dark moods' but things seem to be going well for Sherlock. He has balance to his life and now has a **real** friend and his name is John Hamish Watson.

Sherlock and John were strictly friends until Jim Moriarty came into the picture. Sherlock then realized that he _did_ in fact have a heart and it had been currently wrapped in explosives. When they had effectively escaped, and returned safely back to Baker Street, it really wasn't surprising how they eventually got together. John and Sherlock both lunged at the other in a flurry of limbs which resulted in tangled appendages and clashing teeth. When they had finally calmed down, it was decided that they would continue with this relationship albeit a bit slowly. Sherlock was unused to the sensation of having a real relationship and John had to get over the fact that he was now with a man.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: This chapter is super short and I'm sorry! I didn't get to write yesterday. I was having a super bad day, and when I do that I write angst. I promised myself that this would end well and did not want to kill off the main characters when I was in such a bad mood. I hope you like this one though. Rating will possibly go up in the next chapter. I have to apologize though, there isn't a lot of dialog and because of that, It probably sucks. I plan to add more in the next chapters. Also, I haven't decided on this yet, but I may upload the next chapter today as well due to the fact that this one is so small. Let me know what you think! If you see any mistakes, let me know :).<strong>


	4. The Accident

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Eventual Johnlock slash (Rating could go up),****_ Unbeta'd, and I'm not British_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock._**

**_More notes at the end of Chapter._**

* * *

><p>Nothing can stay hidden forever, no matter how much it is wished, because just two months later John became aware of Sherlock's dark past. The day had started off normally. They had received a text from Lestrade asking for assistance with a '<em>Dull!'<em> case. Said dull case, that was originally thought to be a five, quickly turned into a seven which included a high speed, thrilling chase through the back alleyways in London. Their suspect was only ahead by a few feet and Sherlock was right on his tail. When he made a quick and abrupt turn around a corner, Sherlock trailed behind incautiously which resulted in an unconscious consulting detective and a furious army doctor.

Their attacker, once rendered immobile, lay bloodied and broken on the dirty, cold street. John approached Sherlock with a speed that only training would allow and quickly assessed his wounds. "Sherlock! Sherlock can you hear me!?" John frantically yelled, "You're going to be alright. Just sit tight love. I'll take care of you." Carefully, so he doesn't move Sherlock too much, John reaches into his pocket and retrieves his mobile and dials 999. He removes his woolen jumper and firmly places against the gash.

The ambulance seemed to take an eternity to arrive. When Sherlock had finally been loaded up into the emergency vehicle, John's expressive face closed down into a stern blank mask. He answered the questions fired off by the Paramedic almost robotically. To an onlooker, John would have appeared totally in control, but John had felt as if everything was moving in slow motion, or as if his entire world had been shaken to the point of ruin. '_God, let him be alright.'_

When they finally reached the hospital, Sherlock was whisked away in a flurry of barked orders and surgical masks. John watched them disappear down the long white hallway until they turned a corner and lost sight of them. With nothing else he could do, John sat down on the cold plastic chairs to await the doctor's prognosis. Mycroft arrived, 15 minutes later, carrying his black umbrella in a clenched fist. Nothing was said for the next hour until the doctor arrived with his news.

"Our patient, Mr. Holmes, has attained a minor, closed head injury to the left side of his head. We have ran a CT and everything appears to be normal. We want to keep him overnight though, for observation." When the Doctor has finished speaking, John lets out an obvious sigh of relief and Mycroft seems to have lost the stiffness in his shoulders. "We will see him now." It wasn't a question, but the doctor still nodded at Mycroft's demand. "Right this way."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: This chapter is longer! (not by much, but it is a little longer:) ) I tried just for you guys! I promise things will get better, but they have to get worse before that happens : (that means angst will be ahead). Thank you to all the people following this story! It means a lot knowing that it is at least decent enough to acquire someone's attention! **

**MrsThreepwood: ****I sincerely hope you are doing much better and if you ever need someone to talk to, please Private Message me or comment or something. I'll gladly listen :). I am glad you like that part, and continue to like parts of the story. If you see anything wrong let me know! Thank you for commenting! I was afraid I was talking to myself for awhile there :D.**

**The Nightdreamer:****No it doesn't make you weird! (I believe everyone likes happy endings and I have some abnormal things I like too :D) I'm glad you are liking the story so much! :D I'll try and upload daily. If I can't upload one day, I'll upload two the next. So please, bear with me and continue commenting! I enjoy hearing from you!**


	5. John Knows

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Johnlock slash (Rating could go up),****_ Unbeta'd, and I'm not British_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock._**

**_More notes at the end of Chapter._**

* * *

><p>Sherlock's room was at the end of the long corridor, room number 354. John was about to enter when Mycroft grabbed his arm. "John. There are some things I feel you need to be made aware of." When Mycroft had John's undivided attention, he continued, "When Sherlock was younger he had more than one addiction than you know of." John's brow furrowed in confusion and worry as he asks, "What do you mean?" Mycroft's grim expression told John enough and he entered the room.<p>

As soon as the door opened, John heard a bellowing "BORED!" from the single occupant in the room. Usually that was met with an eyeroll or an amused chuckle. Instead, John broke out into a relieved smile and approached the bed in hurried strides. Once at the bedside, John giggled when he took in the disheveled appearance of the annoyed detective. Sherlock wore a blue hospital gown that looked like it had swallowed him whole. "I know love. There isn't much I can do though. You have to stay tonight under observation." At John's words, Sherlock let out a humorless snort.

"I am perfectly fine! If the idiotic medical staff here would do their jobs correctly and learn to observe their surroundings, they would see that I am quite sound! Yet, they are all idiots and refuse to _see_ what's in front of them!" When Sherlock had finished ranting, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the wall as if it had all been its fault. John just quietly laughed and reached for Sherlock's hand in order to pacify the agitated detective. Unfortunately he noticed something.

There is something you should know about hospital gowns. The design is terrible, the fabric itches when worn, and the sleeves are very short.

When John happened to look down, he saw a thin white line running across Sherlock's wrist. Now, don't believe everything Sherlock tells you. John is not an idiot. He was a spectacular soldier and a brilliant doctor. He has seen many scars like this and knows how they are produced. John grabs Sherlock's wrist and turns his arm over.

John feels like he's going to be sick. He looks down at the pale, thin arm and takes them all in. '_There are at least 30.'_ he thinks, '_On just one arm.' _John seems to have been lost in thought until a jarring motion brings him back to the white hospital room. "Let. Me. **GO**!" Sherlock hisses as he tries to twist out of John's firm grasp. "No!" John bellows, "Not until you explain what these are!"

Sherlock laughs but it sounds broken and dry. "I owe you no explanation." Sherlock is finally able to twist away and he is he turns away from John, hunches his shoulders, and ducks his head. "If you are too incompetent to conceive what these.._marks_ are, then you are even more idiotic than Anderson. I don't know why you are even here."

When Sherlock had finished he _swore_ he could feel John's eyes bore into the back of his head. "I stay," John snarls, "because I _love_ you!"

"Then you are a fool…"

Any reply from John would go unnoticed. Behind Sherlock comes an angry huff and loud footsteps that approach the door. "Good. I can't **bare** to suffer your presence any longer." When those ten words are uttered the footsteps stop and a cold, chilling reply comes from an angered army doctor, "Well, that's good then. You won't have to **suffer** for long. I'm leaving."

The door slams and the sound reverberates throughout the room. Sherlock curls in on himself more and lets sleep take him.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: I am doing better at making them longer! :D I'm trying guys! The next Chapter will be very brutal and gory. The Johnlock warning is unlikely now to go up, but, it's still a possibility and I don't want to take it down until I'm finished. I'm thinking three to four chapters left (maybe less). This story is coming to a close! I hope you all like this chapter! Again, this next chapter will be VERY angsty. Just a warning. But not to worry loves! I enjoy happy endings and I am a sentimental fool sometimes :).<strong>

**MrsThreepwood:****Thank you for the lovely comment! I've (hopefully?) fixed it and it will be easier to read now. You are correct! It was the doctor at the hospital! I'm sorry I hadn't made that too clear :/. I shall be uploading tomorrow :) I've already gotten it written and it's ready! You are very welcome dear! I hope life always treats you kindly *hugs***


	6. Unlovable

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Johnlock slash (Rating could go up),_ Unbeta'd, and I'm not British_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock._**

**_More notes at the end of Chapter._**

* * *

><p>The next day had shown no sign of John. Sherlock is discharged and returns <em>alone<em> to 221B. He pretends that he didn't drive John away and that he is just taking a shower or sleeping in his room. One can only pretend for so long.

Day turns to night and John still has not returned. Sherlock begins thinking the worst. '_What if Moriarty has taken him again_?' or '_What if he has left_?'

_What. if. he. has. __**left**__? _From there the insecurities set in. '_Of course he has left. I'm damaged. I'm worthless. I'm far too thin, my hair is a mess, and __I can't even keep a friend__. I'm __**pathetic**_**.' **By the time Sherlock has finished the self depreciated thoughts he finds himself in the kitchen in front of the mirror.

_Freak. Pathetic. Waste. Useless. Ugly. Weird. Unlovable. Not Good Enough. **Hate**. **HATE!**_ Swirls in the reflected surface. Sherlock angrily reaches for a knife and slides down onto the cold tiled floor. _This is it.'_ He thinks to himself. He looks down at himself, at the knife's shiny surface, with self loathing and begins to think back to all the times they had had together. He bitterly laughs when he realizes that he was the one to ruin it all. His grip tightens further on the knife and his eyes harden and his body runs cold. _'This is it_' and sinks the knife in.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: I'm sorry this is so short. This next one and the 8th one will be longer. To make up for that I have decided to upload two. I thought this chapter, were I had stopped it, was the perfect spot, so that's why it's so short. I hope you enjoyed it even though it's angsty!<strong>

**RandomkittyX3: Here you go! :) Probably not you were expected but, here it is :/ lol. **


	7. Déjà vu

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Johnlock slash (Rating could go up),_ Unbeta'd, and I'm not British_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock._**

**_More notes at the end of Chapter._**

* * *

><p>John warily climbs the stairs that lead up and into 221B. He is not looking forward to the unavoidable row that will only likely to ensue from their conversation at the hospital. As he approaches the door, he notices that it is slightly ajar and his past training kicks in. He climbs the rest of the way silently and enters through the door. The sight before him makes his blood run cold.<p>

'_There is so much blood!' _Is the first thought that runs chillingly through his mind. He rushes forward and sees the slumped over detective curled in on himself with the bloody knife resting loosely in his hand. On his forearm the word **Unlovable** is carved into his skin in striking red letters. John takes a dish towel in hand and presses the wound with one hand, and with the other checks for a pulse. When one is found (barely there but there is one) John lets out the breath and tears he had been holding and steadily reaches for his mobile.

"I need an ambulance at 221B Baker Street at once! My friend is hurt and needs medical attention at once!" He waits, listens to the reply from the reassuring dispatcher that promises a quick arrival, and responds with a choked out, "Hurry!"

"Sherlock! Can you hear me?! You are going to be alright! The ambulance is coming and will be here shortly love! You're going to be just fine!" John wasn't too sure if he was trying to reassure the unconscious detective or himself. When the ambulance had arrived and he was again waiting in the waiting room, he anxiously sat awaiting the doctor's diagnosis. '_This seems familiar.' _He bitterly thinks to himself. When the doctor does come and reassure John's growing worry he rushes to Sherlock's room.

He stops at the door. He remembers the last time he was here and what followed afterwards. He hesitatingly pushes the door open and walks quietly to the bed.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: This chapter is slightly longer (by at least by 100 words). This one is leading up to happier times! I promise! It will get better! To all of you who have commented, favorited, followed, and watched me as an individual. I want to take this time to thank you. So, Thank you! *blushes* you all have been so very kind and have made this an enjoyable experience for me! I hope to have done this fandom justice and to have appeased all Johnlockians :D.<strong>


	8. You Idiot

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Johnlock slash (Rating could go up),****_ Unbeta'd, and I'm not British_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock._**

**_More notes at the end of Chapter._**

* * *

><p>Sherlock was laying on the bed, facing the wall, with his back turned away from John. When Sherlock feels John's presence his body goes rigid as he awaits for the punishing words that were sure to fall from John's mouth. When none came his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he turned his head slightly to see John's face. '<em>John is crying. Why is he crying?'<em> Sherlock turns again to get a better look at John.

John stares fixedly at Sherlock's face. To Sherlock, it looks as if John is trying to gauge his wounds or memorize his face. Sherlock doesn't think he has ever felt more vulnerable. When their eyes meet John closes his eyes and visibly starts to shake. He sinks into the chair that is placed conveniently next to the bed and places his head in his hands.

"John. I-"

"No. You don't get to speak yet. Give me a moment."

When Sherlock falls silent, John takes a moment to compose himself. He slowly lifts his head from his shaking hands and stares pointedly at Sherlock. John lets out a shaky breath and whispers,"I would like to know what the hell you were thinking." Sherlock sat in dumb silence as he stared at his beloved Blogger.

The tears seemed to be endless as they kept falling from John's eyes. Sherlock's brow furrows as he contemplates John's obvious distress. '_Why is he so upset?!'_ Instead of answering Sherlock asks a question of his own. "Why did you come back?" John's eyes widen in disbelief at Sherlock's words.

Before John gets a chance to answer Sherlock continues, "I could clearly deduce that you had no intention of returning to the flat. In a normal situation, you would have stayed by my side, no matter what I had said. Your rigid frame and cold tone told me as much. I can only conclude that you had returned for the rest of your things."

John looks truly baffled. The tears have finally stopped and Sherlock looks at John in cool defiance. He is ready for the confirmation that will end his entire relationship. He tries to convince himself that he doesn't need John but there is proof to the contrary burning beneath white wrapping.

"You idiot." Sherlock blinks at John's declaration. '_That was not what I was expecting._' "I came back to _**you**_ because I _**love**_ you. I told you this before this whole mess started! I wouldn't leave you no matter how much of a pompous arse you are! You are the single most important person in my life and it bloody gutted me to see you lying on the floor like that. I was so afraid you had died. I was afraid I had lost you." John's breath caught on the last sentence and he buries his head again.

Sherlock blinks owlishly at John's prone body and then reaches out and places his hand on John's. John's head snaps up and takes in Sherlock's glistening eyes. "There's always something." Sherlock tugs and pulls John's body toward his until he can place slightly chapped lips against thin warm ones. The kiss is chaste at first but quickly turns into a warm caress that expresses sorrow, worry, forgiveness, but most of all love. When they finally part for needed oxygen, Sherlock rests his forehead against John's and quietly whispers, "I thought you were leaving me and I would be all alone again. I hated myself for driving you away and I felt the need to be punished. I didn't want to go back to being so alone."

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: I made this one happier. I am trying :). I usually write angst but I couldn't stand, when going into this, ending this badly. So, the next one most likely will only have fluff. I hope you enjoy this! I worked really hard and had been writing all day and I though I'd post :D<br>**

**AmandaKK: Things will get better! I've made this one a little happier :) I hope you enjoy it! :D (and I love happy endings! I had to make this end well :D)  
><strong>

**MrsThreepwood: He will have a happily ever after I promise! I've written the entire story and I can safely promise a happy ending :D Thank you very much for the kind words dear! *hug***


	9. You'll never leave

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Johnlock slash (Rating could go up), Unbeta'd, and I'm not British **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

**More notes at the end of Chapter.**

* * *

><p>John's takes Sherlock's angular face in his warm hands and gently places a soft kiss to the corner of Sherlock's mouth. "You'll never feel alone again if I have any say in the matter. If you'll have me, I'll love you and stay with you always."<p>

"Then you'll never leave."

When they had finally returned home, with firm instructions for John to keep a vigilant watch over Sherlock, they lay together on the sofa spooned together with Sherlock's chest to John's back. John had made an inquiry about Sherlock's past. After some time had passed, and the sun was beginning to leave the sky, Sherlock began to speak.

He left nothing to the imagination. At particularly hard points in his life he would pause and John would snuggle back into his embrace and place his hands more firmly against Sherlock's that lay across his stomach. When the tale had finished and several cups of tea had been consumed, the sun had fled and the moon shone brilliantly through the darkened night.

When they had finally headed to bed, they both decide that separation would not be advisable or wanted by either party. John took Sherlock's hand and led him up the stairs and through the door. Once inside, John places his hands gently on Sherlock's chest and looks up into his grey, stormy eyes that reflect a wary hesitation that borders on fear. '_He's afraid I'll leave again.' _The idea dawns on John as he draws him into a warm hug. '_I've been trusted with his heart and I've got to be more careful with it.'  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: I've written everything out, and I was wanting to know, if you all would stick with the story if the rating finally went up to 'M'. I can easily take it out or leave it in. One more chapter to go and then it will be over! I'm so glad I've got to share this wonderful experience with you all! Thank you again to my lovely supporters! I lover you all and I just want to take a moment to specially thank: MrsThreepwood who has pretty much been with me through the beginning, giving me encouraging words and helping me fix mistakes along the way! <strong>

**AmandaKK: Yes they have! I love the boys and I believe they absolutely belong together always :D 3**


	10. Forgive and Forget

**Warnings: Self-harm (cutting), Johnlock slash (M rating), Unbeta'd, and I'm not British **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

**More notes at the end of Chapter.**

* * *

><p>When they separate John slowly withdraws one button from Sherlock's tight shirt slowly, so as not to scare him off, and when seeing a slight nod from the cautious detective, proceeds on to the next. When the shirt has been completely unbuttoned and lay pooled on the floor, John places his hands on Sherlock's warm skin and leads him to the bed. He gently pushes Sherlock into a seated position and he takes off his own shirt to give Sherlock a semblance of equality. He begins to work on his trousers but Sherlock knocks his hands away and unbuttons the top button and pulls down the tab. When John stands before him in only his pants, Sherlock stands up and quickly removes his own trousers.<p>

They stand before each other in the dimly lit room almost completely nude when John draws Sherlock into a sweet kiss. Hands began to roam and John pushes Sherlock down onto the bed and crawls on top of him and resumes the previous kiss with more passion. John slowly traces the seem of Sherlock's lips and is granted access into the warm, wet cavern. They are pressed together from head to toe with ever point in contact. Sherlock could feel John's interest hard against his inner thigh but John realizes that he wasn't the only one with a growing problem.

Sherlock's hands grab John's hips and begin to move downward until he reaches the waistband of John's pants. He teases his fingertips under the cloth and John gets the hint and raises up slightly to take them off. When he is completely bare, John reaches downward, and silently asks for permission. When he receives another small nod, he gently pulls the pants off and they land somewhere on the floor in the darkened corner.

John then lays back down and begins a slow rhythm of skin on skin drawing small moans out of both participants. Sherlock reaches over into the top drawer of the small nightstand and retrieves a satchel of lube.

"How did you...never mind.. I don't want to know" Sherlock only laughs softly and replies, "Obvious. It's on the left side of the bed which would correspond with your dominate hand. You wouldn't want it out in the open where anyone could see it, but, would want it close by. Therefore, in the nightstand."

John chuckles as well and draws Sherlock in for another bruising kiss. He retrieves the lube from Sherlock and spreads it along Sherlock's long length and then wraps a hand around both of their hard members. Sherlock breaks away from the kiss to utter a deep moan, "John!" John speeds up his pace until the only sounds coming out of both mouths are uttered profanities and unintelligible groans. "I'm close.." Sherlock was panting by this point and John had to utter his agreement, "Me too.."

It took Sherlock three strokes later before he was spilling his release on John's hand, "John! Yesyesyesyes! John!" That was all it took for John who was cumming only moments later with a muffled moan into Sherlock's collar bone.

John exits the bed for a moment only to return with a wet flannel in order to clean both of them up. When he is finished he tosses the flannel onto the floor and curls up beside a contented Sherlock. Sherlock turns onto his side and buries his face into the crook of John's neck. The blogger drags the satisfied detective closer and wraps his arms around a thin waist.

"I just want you to know" John whispers into dark curls, "that if you ever feel the way like you had before, you can come and talk to me. I never want to know of a time that you feel as if you can't confide in me. No matter what happens, I'll love you forever, but you can't do that to me again. You'll be the death of me."

"I'm sorry John."

Instead of answering John sits up slightly and reaches for Sherlock's marred arm and tenderly begins kissing each disfigured mark. Sherlock's eyes widen as he realizes that, 'This is his way of forgiving me.' When John had finished with that arm he goes on to the next, repeating the process until his lips travel upward, across his chest, up the side of his neck and finally makes a stop on full cupid-bowed lips. After several loving kisses are shared John draws back until he can look into bright eyes and he can whisper, "I know, love." With a final kiss, they lay facing each other with only an inch separating the two. Before sleep can claim either party, Sherlock quietly whispers, "Thank you John. I love you."

"I love you too."

After those words are uttered, Sherlock and John both drift off into sleep with smiles on their faces.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: This is it guys! This is the last chapter! Since I had gotten a few replies that people would stick with me if the rating were to go up. This is my first time ever writing smut so, I know it isn't so great. I wanted to make the moment soft and sweet. They deserve some happiness after all I've put them through. So, if you see anything wrong or you could help me with the smut that would be appreciated :D.<br>**

**Thank you to everyone who has been by my side and has followed or commented or just viewed it! I was looking at the traffic graph and I noticed it has been viewed 2500 times! That is the most any of my stories have ever been viewed so I want to thank you all! :D You have made this amateur writer's day :D**

**On a different note... I have finally seen the first episode of Sherlock season 3. I already hate Mary and I believe something is fishy about her -.- (that could just be because she is interrupting my Johnlock but I think there is something else). I'm not spoiling the first ep. for anyone who hasn't seen it so, don't post spoilers (if you can refrain from doing so. It is very hard I know ;) )! **


End file.
